, and now, what have I
found? Why, I have found, or fancied, that he has been cruelly
plundered: that Milton's first idea of 'L'Allegro' and 'Il Penseroso'
were suggested by the verses at the beginning; that Savage's speech
of Suicide in the 'Wanderer' grew up out of a passage you probably
remember towards the 216th page; that Swift's tale of the woman that
holds water in her mouth, to regain her husband's love by silence,
had its source in the same farrago; and that there is an odd
similitude between my Lord's trick upon Sly the Tinker, in
Shakspeare's 'Taming of the Shrew,' and some stuff I have been
reading in Burton."

It would be easy to heap proof upon proof of the value and variety of
Mrs. Thrale's contributions to the colloquial treasures accumulated
by Boswell and other members of the set; and Johnson's deliberate
testimony to her good qualities of head and heart will far more than
counterbalance any passing expressions of disapproval or reproof with
her mistimed vivacity, or alleged disregard of scrupulous accuracy in
narrative, may have called forth. No two people ever lived much
together for a series of years without many fretful, complaining,
dissatisfied, uncongenial moments,--without letting drop captious or
unkind expressions, utterly at variance with their habitual feelings
and their matured judgments of each other. The hasty word, the
passing sarcasm, the sly hit at an acknowledged foible, should count
for nothing in the estimate, when contrasted with earnest and
deliberate assurances, proceeding from one who was commonly too proud
to flatter, and in no mood for idle compliment when he wrote.

"Never (he writes in 1773) imagine that your letters are long; they
are always too short for my curiosity. I do not know that I was ever
content with a single perusal.... My nights are grown again very
uneasy and troublesome. I know not that the country will mend them;
but I hope your company will mend my days. Though I cannot now expect
much attention, and would not wish for more than can be spared from
the poor dear lady (her mother), yet I shall see you and hear you
every now and then; and to see and hear you, is always to hear wit,
and to see virtue."

He would not suffer her to be lightly spoken of in his presence, nor
permit his name to be coupled jocularly with hers. "I yesterday told
him," says Boswell, when they were traversing the Highlands, "I was
thinking of writing a poetical letter to him, on hi